Figure and Fog, Ponte della Paglia, Tonight

When the "Off Season" Consists Merely of a Few Scattered Weeks...

The setting sun yesterday in a hazy sky above the Chiesa del Santissimo Redentore

...you try to appreciate each hour of them if you're a resident.

I mean, who could have imagined just 10 days ago that at, say, high noon, there would be no line to get into the basilica of San Marco? That you could take the main thoroughfare connecting Piazza San Marco to the Rialto, the Merceria, and not once find your path blocked by at least one head-phoned tour group of 75 folks lumbering along at a Zombie Apocalypse pace? That in the late afternoon you wouldn't have to thread your way through a mass of at least 1,000 day-trippers filling the Riva degli Schiavoni, all waiting for their various lancioni, or shuttle boats, to return them to their tour buses?

That, in short, you might not feel obliged to avoid the historic center at all costs?

Now that the Biennale has closed, and in these weeks before Christmas, the city is almost unrecognizable--in the best way imaginable. It feels as if the city itself has finally been freed from a very long and very intense migraine: its face no longer distorted by the usual stress, its breath finally coming easily. It's marvelous.

It won't last.

The marketers have cooked up their brand new New Year's "tradition"--it's all of about 2 years old, I believe--of "A Kiss at Midnight in Piazza San Marco" and the hoards will come and basically ransack the place, scaling the facade of the Palazzo Ducale in order to take "selfies" and leaving behind their trash and bodily waste. Perhaps our grandstanding mayor, Brugnaro (who recently offered Venice as the site of an international anti-terrorist summit between Obama and Putin--only to be completely ignored), will even extend the hours of the bars for the night as he did on Redentore.

But why get ahead of myself? Venice seems for these few weeks to belong temporarily to its residents. This is something to savor.   
    

These are not actual "mordi e fuggi" (or bite and run) tourists being removed from Venice yesterday, but some figures from the Chinese artist Lio Ruo Wang's Venice Biennale installation in the former convent of San Salvador 

Fewer crowds mean the chance to notice details you've missed for years--such as these seasonal ones--though they're located in obvious places

An Elegant Native of the Lagoon, This Afternoon

An egretta garzetta, or little egret, looks for a bite this afternoon, with Murano as a distant backdrop. Hunted extensively in the 19th century for their plumes--used to adorn hats--they became extinct in several regions of Europe. But since coming under the protection of conservation laws in 1950 they have made a comeback and are no longer considered in danger of extinction.

Though the above image was taken near the island of Certosa, they can now be seen in the city of Venice proper--sometimes on Riva degli Schiavoni, for example-- which a native Venetian told me was never the case when she was growing up 30 years ago. Back then you'd have to venture out into the lagoon to see them. But, she says, decreasing numbers of fish in the lagoon at large have forced the egrets to risk coming into closer contact with humans. 

Autumn Trio

Some young musicians aspire to perform before a sea of faces in a huge stadium show; these three were content with the waters of the Giudecca Canal as their audience.

L'Inferno on the Zattere, This Afternoon

Scenes from a spirited one-man performance of an adaptation of Dante's great work. I know nothing about the performer except he's awfully good at portraying tormented souls and is worth watching if you happen upon him.

The toxic industrial hell of Marghera makes a fitting backdrop for a performance of Dante's Inferno

A Stormy Festa della Madonna della Salute This Year

The candle-lighters had nothing like the usual crowds to deal with this year, but were kept busy, instead, relighting candles repeatedly blown out by the wind

Candles and helium balloons are, respectively, the sacred and profane ritualistic elements of Venice's annual Festa della Madonna della Salute and in past years I sometimes wondered what, if anything, was the connection between the one item lit within the church and the other that bobbed in enormous masses outside it, waiting to be bought by excited kids.

This year the answer (or at least an answer) was revealed: high winds wreak havoc with both of them.

Rain isn't unusual on this feast day, celebrated on 21 November and rivaling the fireworks of the summer's Festa Del Redentore as the city's most important holiday, and I've never known it to diminish the crowds. But the gale-force winds that accompanied this past Saturday's storm were strong enough to keep a good many people from venturing out of the house, even for the purpose of petitioning St Mary for a year's worth of good health. And neither the promise of a balloon nor marzipan (frutta finta, is what Sandro calls it: "fake fruit") could get Sandro, or anyone else, to accompany me.

So it was a low-key affair this year: the balloon sellers forced to crowd their massive clouds of floating merchandise beneath a sottoportego or within the dark entrance hall of a nearby palazzo, the sweet stalls bereft of traffic, and the vast majority of candles on one side of the church blown out almost as soon as they were lit by the wind gusting through the church's open doors.

Nor did I make castradina this year: the ritual dish specific to this holiday whose preparation, like the resurrection, is a three-day process.

So for those interested in finding out just how one goes about preparing the smoked, spiced, sun-dried leg of mutton called castradina or seeing images of the feast celebrated in full force I'd refer you to the links below:  

http://veneziablog.blogspot.it/2013/11/a-ritual-dish-for-la-festa-della.html

http://veneziablog.blogspot.it/2013/11/festa-della-madonna-della-salute-and.html

Two Views of the Fondamenta Gasparo Contarini, Tonight